But though the past keeps firm hold on one, yet one feels with the same warmth that the men and the institutions of to-day have their merit and their claims.  Others will know how to set forth before the public the merit of the Sailors’ Home in the eloquent terms of hard facts and some few figures.  For myself, I can only bring a personal note, give a glimpse of the human side of the good work for sailors ashore, carried on through so many decades with a perfect understanding of the end in view.  I have been in touch with the Sailors’ Home for sixteen years of my life, off and on; I have seen the changes in the staff and I have observed the subtle alterations in the physiognomy of that stream of sailors passing through it, in from the sea and out again to sea, between the years 1878 and 1894.  I have listened to the talk on the decks of ships in all latitudes, when its name would turn up frequently, and if I had to characterise its good work in one sentence, I would say that, for seamen, the Well Street Home was a friendly place.

It was essentially just that; quietly, unobtrusively, with a regard for the independence of the men who sought its shelter ashore, and with no ulterior aims behind that effective friendliness.  No small merit this.  And its claim on the generosity of the public is derived from a long record of valuable public service.  Since we are all agreed that the men of the merchant service are a national asset worthy of care and sympathy, the public could express this sympathy no better than by enabling the Sailors’ Home, so useful in the past, to continue its friendly offices to the seamen of future generations.

Footnotes

{1} Yvette and Other Stories.  Translated by Ada Galsworthy.

{2} Turgenev:  A Study.  By Edward Garnett.

{3} Studies in Brown Humanity.  By Hugh Clifford.

{4} Quiet Days in Spain.  By C. Bogue Luffmann.

{5} Existence after Death Implied by Science.  By Jasper B. Hunt, M.A.

{6} The Ascending Effort.  By George Bourne.

{7} Since writing the above, I am told that such doors are fitted in the bunkers of more than one ship in the Atlantic trade.

{8} The loss of the Empress of Ireland.